Good Intentions
by Dalliann
Summary: On a long expedition, the team is sidetracked in a desert city where corruption threatens to break them apart...
1. Chapter 1

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Good Intentions - Chapter 1

Jack wiped at his brow roughly. The desert, normally unbearable, had become a spanse of heated glass this afternoon. Only an hour ago sweat had dripped uncomfortably down his temple; but now, as the leather of his glove scratched across his forehead, Jack wished for the sweat to return. His dryness in this heat was a sure sign of dehydration and there was no telling how far away the nearest water supply was. 

He glanced around at the rest of his crew, trying to judge their levels of endurance. Ikira rarely showed any outward signs of discomfort but, under these conditions, it was clear that his facade of indifference was losing strength. His eyes squinted tiredly, and he sat hunched over the controls of his speeder.

Ana had dismounted Babu early in the trek, knowing the strain on him was far greater than any burden the machines carried. She had walked behind at a distance, Babu overhead. But as the sun began to climb, her pace had slowed and her pet had dipped lower in his flight pattern. Finally exhausting themselves as the sun reached midday, they climbed wearily to the shoulders of the C.L.O.D. and sat miserably on its hot, metal exterior.

Aside from the fact that the tank had little ventilation, Willy, Mick, and Roselyn seemed to fair the best from inside the C.L.O.D.'s cockpit. Jack felt a twinge of resentment toward the three but shook it away. They had drawn straws. It had been decided fairly. Then again, Mick had been the one holding the straws... _No_, Jack told himself. _Mick wouldn't cheat us on this. Besides, it's good that they're in the C.L.O.D. If we're attacked we'll need all of the muscle we can get out of it, and who operates the tank better than Mick and Willy?_

"Jack?" 

Snapped out of his thoughts by Xyber's voice, Jack turned slightly and regarded the spherical computer strapped across his back. "Yeah?" 

"My sensors indicate that your body temperature is rising to a dangerous level. I believe you need water," Xyber said, a strange note of concern finding it's way into the statement. 

Jack rolled his eyes. "No, really?" he replied. 

"Yes. I've been scanning the horizon and I believe I've detected a small town. It lies approximately forty kilometers to the west." 

Jack looked to his left, in the direction Xyber had indicated. He couldn't see anything beyond the sand, but he didn't doubt the robot's telescoping vision. Steering the Scout forward, he came to a stop and hovered in front of the C.L.O.D. The massive vehicle halted, jerking Ana back into consciousness. 

The cockpit hatch opened and Mick hoisted himself up through the hole. "What's going on?" he yelled. 

"Xyber's found a town about forty kilometers west of here. We need to stop for water before we all drop dead of sunstroke," Jack shouted back hoarsely, the dry heat straining his voice. 

Mick nodded and closed the hatch over his head. In a few moments, the C.L.O.D. began rumbling forward again. With the team following, Jack turned the caravan toward the invisible city that lay somewhere ahead. 

*****

From eight kilometers away, the town had finally come into view as a tiny, dark rectangle on the horizon. But as they continually neared the safe haven, it grew from a small village to a large town and finally to an immense city. 

No one spoke as they came to the entrance, each feeling that it must have been a mirage. The metropolis sat on a large hill that rose much higher than the surrounding desert, although it had looked to be flush with the ground from a great distance. The buildings, a mixture of ancient and modern architecture, were domed and made of stone and mud. They were clustered together tightly along very narrow streets, which were filled with people and brightly colored tents. 

Still amazed at finding such a lively city in the middle of the desert, the team left their vehicles at the bottom of the hill amidst a grouping of gigantic stones that had separated from the cliffs. More concerned with finding water than wasting time with caution, they made their way into the city. 

Jack scanned the street before him in search of a well or fountain. The path was filled with people and he couldn't make out much of anything past a short distance. 

Ikira tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to an old woman who was shading herself beneath a tent; she was deep in conversation with another woman, both of them weaving broad tapestries. 

Jack shrugged and looked at his mentor. "A rug maker? What about her?" 

"Look at what's hanging from the tent's frame, Jack." 

Several large water flasks hung heavily from a bowing pole that supported the tent covering. Jack smiled and strode over to the woman. 

"Excuse me, Ma'am," he began, "could you please tell me where the well is located from where you drew your water?" 

The woman cocked an eyebrow at him suspiciously and leaned to one side to peer at his friends, all watching the exchange intently. She grinned in a thin line and returned her gaze to Jack's face. "I'd be happy to tell you," she said and scratched out a simple map in the sand. 

Jack nodded in thanks and returned to his crewmates while the old woman leaned over to her friend with a wide grin. "Is it tourist season already?" 

Jack led the team down the alley and turned into a side street that was even more narrow than the original path. The street opened up into a spacious plaza, and the most crowded section they had visited yet. A fountain, its uppermost tier tall enough to be seen over the heads of the populace, sat centerstage in the square. Relief at finding water rushed over the crew and they pushed their way through the crowd to the fountain. Mick was the first one to reach it; he plunged his hands into the clear liquid and was just bringing it back to his lips when a large hand grabbed his collar and yanked him back, splashing the water in his face. 

He spun around angrily, ready to fight, but immediately withdrew his fists at the sight of the giant before him. Not as tall as Willy, but twice as wide, the man still held Mick's shirt in one hand. 

"What did you do now?" Jack asked in irritation as the rest of the team reached the fountain. 

"Nothing!" Mick seethed, still trying to figure out exactly what he _had_ done. 

The titan turned to Jack and shook Mick a bit. "He hasn't paid, yet." 

"Paid? For what?" Jack asked, trying to imagine what Mick could have possibly stolen in the thirty seconds he'd lost sight of him. 

"Water usage." 

"Water! It's a public square! You don't pay for fountain privileges!" Mick yelled. The man shook his collar again and Mick grudgingly quieted. 

Jack glanced around and then back at the water monger. "I don't see a sign." 

"There's no need of a sign. Everyone who lives here knows how these things work," the man said, narrowing his eyes at the boy. "Which tells me you are an outsider. Outsiders must pay more." 

"That's not fair!" Roselyn pushed her way to the front and pointed a finger in the man's face. "In my kingdom we have committees that prevent these kinds of dishonest business practices. You would be breaking more than a dozen laws where I come from." 

The man growled and shoved her away, looking back to Jack. "What is it to be? You die of thirst or you pay a small fee." 

Jack glared at the man and sighed, loosing his coin pouch from his belt. "How much?" 

The water monger let go of Mick and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Five pieces of gold," he said. "Each." 

"Five?" Jack shouted. 

"Of course, you could always walk to the edge of town and pay about two coins each. But, personally, I wouldn't risk drinking Yaegar's water for a ton of gold. Water shouldn't be green." He smiled smugly at the team's disgust. 

Gritting his teeth, Jack fished out the coins and slapped them down in the man's outstretched palm. He turned back to his crew. "Get your money's worth," he sighed. 

They all approached the water basin with their various flasks and canteens. Jack glanced at each of his friends, making sure they were getting their fill, and noticed two absences. 

"Guys?" he asked of the remaining group. "Where are Mick and Ikira?" 

*****

I'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible! –Dalliann

Xyber Niners- http://www.geocities.com/xyber_niners/


	2. Chapter 2

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Good Intentions - Chapter 2

Jack spun around, trying to spot the vanished pair in the river of townspeople flowing in and out of the square. But they moved too quickly and in too many directions and soon they were nothing more than a mass of shifting colors before his eyes. He crossed his arms and sat down on the lip of the well with a sigh, ignoring the water monger's irritated stare. 

"Great," he groaned. "The _last_ thing we need right now is to get lost in this place." 

Willy continued to fill the remaining flasks with water and calmly secured them around his neck and at his belt. Jack looked up at the man, more than a little confused. 

"You're awfully composed. Aren't you a little worried about what Mick might be up to?" he asked. 

"He won't be that hard to find. The last two towns we've passed through have been Supressionist. I'd say he's pretty riled up for a drink, by now." 

"He's at a tavern?" 

"That'd be my guess." 

"Well, that narrows it down, at least. What about Ikira?" 

Unexpectedly, Roselyn's hand shot up and she waved it around excitedly. "I know! What about that temple we passed near the city entrance? It was a bit gaudy if you ask me but I suppose a spiritual place remains spiritual in spite of it's decorator's intentions." 

Jack blinked at her for a moment and then looked at the others. "It's worth a shot," he said. Roselyn smiled back at him sweetly and glanced at Anakonda, pleased to see an angry flush in the reptilian girl's cheeks. 

"Alright, then. You two go back and check out the temple and me and Ana will look for Mick," Jack said, oblivious to the suddenly sour look on the princess's face. "We'll meet back here at sunset." The two teams split up and left the plaza in opposite directions.

*****

Jack wearily made his way through the door of yet another tavern- the ninth bar they'd visited in less than an hour. He hadn't been well received in any of them; apparently, the barkeeps in this city only catered to patrons who were actually planning to buy something. He'd been thrown out of each taproom- bodily in one case. But this latest venture was already looking up, for Mick's auburn hair stood out sharply in the room full of dark-haired townsfolk.

Jack sighed, irritated and relieved at the same time, and strode up to his crewmate. Mick was leaning over the counter as he loudly related a story to the barman, who was laughing just as loudly in return. Perched beside him, a skinny girl shook a head covered in ringlets and pushed Mick's shoulder playfully. The barman was just sliding another glass toward Mick when Jack stepped in and pushed the shot away. 

"You could've at least _told_ us where you were going, Mick," Jack said in the sternest tone he could manage. 

"Yeah. And I'm sure you would've been happy to oblige, right?" Mick replied. "In any case, I thought it would take a lot longer for you to find me. I haven't even got a buzz, yet!" 

Jack bit back a nasty comment and pushed the shot glass closer to the curly-haired girl. She smiled at him slightly but her eyes kept flicking to the Xyber strapped across his back. He dismissed her curiosity and returned his attention to Mick. 

"Well, now that we know where _you've_ been, got any ideas where Ikira might be?" 

Mick raised an eyebrow cynically and grinned. "Uh, try behind you?"

Jack whirled around to find his mentor at the opposite end of the tavern placing bets at the gaming tables. Ana trailed behind him in a futile attempt to break the gambling spell but he kept waving her away and muttering something about bad luck. 

"I thought he was over this!" Jack growled. 

"Apparently not," Mick said, clearly disinterested. "You better go assist Snake Girl with her intervention before he blows _all_ of his cash." 

As Jack rushed off to the rune tables, Mick turned back to the girl beside him. He smiled at her and pulled the shot glass back toward him. "So, where were we?" 

Jack squeezed his way through the crowd at the gaming tables and caught Ikira's sleeve before the old man could escape to another table. "What are you doing?" Jack demanded. 

"Well, I would be _winning_ if she'd just leave me be," he answered with a curt nod in Ana's direction. "You're distracting me, both of you!" 

"It's been months since you've gambled. I thought you had beaten this problem." 

"I don't have a 'problem'. I never did. I just didn't have the necessary funds to continue placing bets- now I do. So, if you'll excuse me..." Ikira said and broke away from Jack's grasp. He sauntered over to the next table while Jack and Ana watched with worried expressions. 

"What do we do now? Drag him away?" Ana asked doubtfully. 

"Ikira? Taken somewhere against his will? Never happen. Not without a lot more of us, anyway. And a bat." 

"We can't leave him here," she pressed. 

"I know," Jack sighed. The tavern door swung open as another customer entered the bar. As the door slowly shut itself Jack was surprised to see that the sun was hanging low in the sky and that the streets were already lost in shadow. "It'll be sunset before we even get back to the fountain. Maybe Mick can watch Ikira while we get the others. There's got to be an inn somewhere around here." 

Jack turned back to the bar to call Mick over but his chair was empty. Jack's eyes darted back and forth across the tavern but Mick was nowhere in sight. Angrily, he slammed his fist down on the gaming table, earning some startled looks from the gamblers around him. "Now where'd he go?" 

*****

Mick smiled to himself as he followed the skinny girl from the tavern through the twisting streets of the city. He'd always enjoyed the heady rush of a clever get-away. Of course, escaping Jack's attention wasn't much of a challenge but Ana was usually a little more diligent and he'd slipped easily past her gaze tonight. Twice! He laughed lightly and the girl turned around to give him a quizzical look. 

When he'd first entered the bar he thought she had been striking. But upon closer inspection it was clear that she was nothing extraordinary- pretty but rather plain. Her hair was tightly coiled into neat, springy ringlets but the blackness of them was more a dull charcoal than the sleek ebony of her fellow natives. Even her eyes and skin, both varying shades of olive, were tinged with an unhealthy greyness. On top of everything else, she was beyond slim. Her cheekbones, vertebrae, shoulders, collarbones, and elbows protruded sharply under her skin and her droopy, oversized wardrobe didn't help appearances. 

When he only smiled in response to her questioning gaze she turned around again and led him down another sidestreet. 

"What's your name, anyway?" Mick asked. 

"Ilsa," she said and pointed to a dilapidated, sandstone building. "It's up there." 

"I'm Mick." 

"You already told me at the tavern, remember?" she asked, smiling. He didn't really but it wasn't weighing heavily on his mind. Ilsa pulled a tattered drapery aside and revealed an uneven, stone staircase that led to the dwelling's second floor. She took his hand and pulled him up after her. The stairwell was dangerously dark and after smacking his forehead roughly against a ceiling beam he was careful to stay crouched down as they made their way upstairs. 

"This is wonderful," she told him. "It's just been sitting up here for years. My father was a mechanic, too, but he never really had any use for this type of motor. If you want it, we could certainly use the money." 

Mick nodded. He'd stumbled into a conversation about the C.L.O.D. over his third shot of liquid fire and had gone off on a rant about it's latest trauma- a kaput motor that _nobody_ seemed to have in stock. Ilsa had then excitedly described the machine that sat in her greatroom as the base for a table; it matched Mick's description of the motor perfectly. 

But now she expected to be paid for it? Traveling with a naive goody-two-shoes for six months had admittedly changed Mick's perspective on the topic of loyalty but he was still a long way off from respecting the virtue of an honest trade. She'd get paid but not until after a long and involved haggling ruse had reduced the motor's price to a fraction of it's value. If it had any value at all. 

At the top of the stairs she pulled aside another curtain and led him into a candlelit sitting room. It was sparsely furnished with a large rug on the floor, a small table in the corner, and two ratty cushions that served as chairs. She motioned for him to sit down but he politely declined. 

"Wait here and I'll go get it," she said and stepped into another room through a doorframe hung with strings of beads. 

Mick laughed. "You'll go get it? Those things weigh as much as a person! I better help you." 

He was just walking through the beaded veil when something heavy crashed down on the back of his head. He fell to the floor and rolled over onto his side. As the room spun around him and his vision blurred into darkness, he saw Ilsa standing over him with a heavy spike of wood. He _didn't_ see the motor she had promised him. 


End file.
